Review: Real Time

My first film this year was a Canadian production from sophomore director Randall Cole called Real Time. His previous film, 19 Months, has a pretty poor rating on imdb, but I apparently overlooked that piece of data when I selected this film. Hey, I was pinched for time, okay?

Somehow, Randall managed to sign up some relatively big names to star in a film that is rather small in scope. Jay Baruchel is Canadian, so it's not hard to guess how he got involved in a Canadian director's film. Jay splits his time between large roles in Canadian productions and small ones in American productions, including Almost Famous, Million Dollar Baby, Knocked Up, and most recently, Tropic Thunder. Randy Quaid, a Texan with over 100 credits on imdb, is a mystery.

The film's title comes from the claim that the entire movie is shown somewhat in real time (I didn't spend a lot of time staring at my watch, so I can't verify this claim), about 78 minutes worth. Baruchel plays Andy, a young gambling addict who owes $68k to a small time mob boss. Andy, not being all that bright, worsens the situation by making fun of said boss's harelip. Quaid plays Reuben, the mob boss's Australian employee, who volunteered to off Andy. It seems Reuben has a soft spot for Andy, so he wants him to have an hour to make peace with his sad life before he puts a bullet in his head. Nice guy, eh?

Together they visit a corner Andy claims is patrolled by a prostitute resembling Rosie Perez, a fast food chicken restaurant where he was once employed, and his grandmother's house, from whom he admits to stealing goods he later sold to a pawn shop. Eventually, Reuben leads them to a wooded area near town where he allows Andy to have one last look at the city from afar before he brings things to a somewhat surprising conclusion.

The script hits sometimes, but occasionally borders on trite. Some of the comedy succeeds, while other jokes fall flat, and though they billed it as a suspense film, I don't know that I was ever on the edge of my seat. I did, surprisingly, feel for the characters at the end of it, so I'll give them a thumb up for making me care about the characters. My imdb rating: 6/10.

Arrival

I successfully avoided any travel disasters and have now checked into my room, which "has character". My wifi connection is spotty, and may or may not belong to my host. We'll see how this works out. For now, I have to get moving. I have cash to withdraw, tickets to pick up, etc.

Welcome to Canada, eh?

Since I last wrote, I called my B&B host in a panic when I misread my confirmation e-mail and thought my arrival date was set for Monday. Nope, it's today. He thinks I'm an idiot now.

Next up, I set a container of OJ on my tray table on the flight to Toronto and opened it, not thinking about the fact that we were on a steep climb. You don't have to have a vivid imagination to figure out what that outcome was.

I'm now writing from the Airport Express Shuttle bus, which will take me to the beautiful Hotel Chelsea, where I'm not staying. From there, I'll take a taxi to St. George near Dupont, where my host will look at me and think, "So that's the idiot..."

Isn't it a cool city that has a wifi connection spreading throughout the downtown area? Bus blogging -- you just can't do that in Des Moines.

One leg down

The first leg went relatively smoothly. My iPod was dead, but I was asleep before I would have had the chance to turn it on. I was in an exit row, which is great, but those seats don't recline and my head spent a great deal of time bent forward at a near 90-degree angle. When we arrived in Detroit, in the words of our pilot, "some genius parked a van right in the middle of our gate," so we had to wait five minutes while they found a driver.

I found a working outlet next to a seat at the gate of my next flight, and my iPod is charging away, though I'll probably once again sleep right through any opportunity to use it.

It's raining here in Detroit, and the clouds are apparently affecting the satellite feed for the TV. CNN sounds like Max Headroom. Strangely, though, Fox & Friends was coming in loud and clear at the Middle Eastern breakfast place on the walk to my gate. They were advertising tonight's program "Governor Sarah Palin: An American Woman", fresh on the tails of their other famous exposés "Dogs: Animals with Four Legs" and "Apples, Wagons and Communists: Things Commonly Identified With the Color Red". But enough political commentary.

My flight leaves in 75 minutes and I should probably get a plan of action together. See you in Toronto.

And so it begins

I'm at the airport awaiting the first flight, after checking in at 4:35 AM without a hitch. I thought I should have a little breakfast -- it's going to be a long day and I'm travelling on very little sleep -- so I stopped at the food court just inside security. I picked up what I thought was a bacon, egg and cheese sandwich on and English muffin, but in actuality had no bacon, and a bottle of OJ. The young lady at the register, said nothing to me except "Seven Twenty-seven?"

"I have no idea," I replied, "I haven't even been to the gate yet."

Blank stare. It then occurred to me that my puny sandwich, the one with no bacon, and OJ actually cost, with tax, $7.27. Wow. I hope the humorless, unfriendly chick at the counter is the worst of it today.

The plane is at the gate. There are the usual suspects waiting at the gate with me -- the 50-something couple arguing about something trivial event from their time at the check-in counter, the skinny chick in stiletto heels simultaneously working a sudoku puzzle and conversing, rather loudly, with some unknown person on the other end of her bluetooth headset, the Asian man wearing rather large headphones for the gate area, the crazed woman in the colorful turquoise poncho -- yep, this is my crowd.

I got an internet connection, after a minor bit of wrangling, and everything else seems in place for a smooth ride to Toronto. But I've been down this road before, and I'm not letting my guard down, at least not until I'm writing you from my room.

Of course, there is another way to look at this. I'm not in much of a hurry this year. My first film isn't until 6:00, and my flight arrives before noon. Delaying my flight for a couple hours wouldn't even stress me out all that much, so will the travel gods even bother?

Damn it, Sean, don't even think that way, that is how they will get you!

Just because you're paranoid, don't mean they're not after you.

-- Kurt Cobain

Check-in time is approaching. See you in Detroit.

Flexibility

I finally spent a few minutes looking at the schedules for the three screenings for which I didn't get a ticket and I have a basic plan of action. There aren't any other screenings for Zack and Miri Make a Porno that I can see, so I'll have to try to rush for that one. For those of you who are too lazy to click on the link, "Rushing" is shorthand for "waiting in line and hoping that some extra seats become available". If I don't get in, I can catch it in a major theatre near me when it comes out on Halloween. It won't be the same, though. There's something about seeing a movie like that in a packed house of jazzed Kevin Smith fans. And, I'll have all week to find another movie to see in its place.

I can see Synecdoche, New York on Thursday afternoon before Gigantic, if there any tickets left for that screening. If not, I can always rush for it and most assuredly get in. Since I have nothing pressing going on that day, I could easily be the first person in the rush line. And, of course, I will have the fallback of "a major theatre near me". That one isn't nearly as cool to see with a festival crowd.

The tough one is The Paranoids. It probably won't play at any theatres near me, so Netflix would be my only alternative option. Also, it is the only screening while I'm in town. My schedule dictates that I will have very little time in the rush line, so I guess I'll just hope for the best. If I miss it, well, I suppose worse things have happened to better people. On the bright side, I can have a nap before Sexykiller and see a bonus movie on Saturday.

17 Out of 20 Ain't Bad

I got an e-mail from TIFF today confirming the processing of my order. I got all of my picks with the following exceptions: Zack and Miri Make a Porno, Synecdoche, New York, and The Paranoids. I'll figure out what to do about those later. I'm half asleep right now. Good night.